{She beckons}

The gossamer gown merged with clear blue waters, rippling like waves as the wearer walked upon the surface of the lake. Hair spilled down her back in a brown to aquamarine gradient, strands in the coarse texture and shape of seaweed.
“Tirra lirra,” her misery-laden voice resonates towards the shore. “Who will be with me, the Lady of Shalott?” She drags herself along the body of water, walking to the island, sinking with each step.
“Who will join me?”
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Upon the island of Aucuneîle (oh-koo-neel) sat the castle Astolat in the center, built to reach the sky as it looked over its territory atop a mountain. Citizens on Aucuneîle were from generations of island dwellers, and only few dared to come from the mainland to the island by boat. When foreigners set foot on the island, Aucuneîlans would always say first and foremost, “Don't follow the Lady,” without further explanation.

The gossamer gown merged with clear blue waters, rippling like waves as the wearer walked upon the surface of the lake. Hair spilled down her back in a brown to aquamarine gradient, strands in the coarse texture and shape of seaweed.
“Tirra lirra,” her misery-laden voice resonates towards the shore. “Who will be with me, the Lady of Shalott?” She drags herself along the body of water, walking to the island, sinking with each step.
“Who will join me?”
-----------
Upon the island of Aucuneîle (oh-koo-neel) sat the castle Astolat in the center, built to reach the sky as it looked over its territory atop a mountain. Citizens on Aucuneîle were from generations of island dwellers, and only few dared to come from the mainland to the island by boat. When foreigners set foot on the island, Aucuneîlans would always say first and foremost, “Don't follow the Lady,” without further explanation.



